


Egoist

by Spookii



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Obsessive Behavior, Other, Yandere, he likes u a lot, its not what I wanted when I started writing but, miku said :3c, this ain’t about him tho, vocaloid ?????, youre just kinda like wtf r u doing dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 09:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spookii/pseuds/Spookii
Summary: Yandere  Asra fic ig?The title is a reference to one of the greatest bops in Voca History: Egoist ft. Miku.
Relationships: Asra (The Arcana)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Egoist

“If you won’t belong to me”

“Let me go!” You jerked against the hands restraining yourself arms, “Please!” 

…

“Asra, stop it please! You’re hurting me-“ 

He covers your mouth with one hand, dragging you up the stairs into the living area. 

You pull away, his grip on you weakened, and tumble down the stairs. He’s on top of you before you can recover, shoving his scarf into your mouth. You’re still seeing stars when he starts dragging you back up the stairs. He’s far stronger than he looks. 

“This is for your own good, okay?” 

He didn’t sound entirely sure of himself. 

You strain to look at him, tears blurring your vision. He won’t make eye contact, if he did, he'd probably second guess his actions. 

You’re gagging on his scarf, you’re going to pass out, you’re too weak to fight anymore, you’re going to pass out, you’re going to- 

“I’ll lock you up in a small room”

When you come to, you’re in your bed. It’s dark and your eyes won’t adjust. The curtains are drawn so you can’t tell what time of day it is. He’s done that on purpose. 

“Asra?” 

He must not be here. How long have you been asleep? Your head was pounding, god, you haven’t had a headache this bad in months. 

You move to rub your temples only to be held back. You hadn’t even realized that your hands had been bound in what felt like rope. 

You pull against the rope fruitlessly, it’s tied tightly. The more you pull, the more it hurts. That doesn’t stop you though. You’ll pull until your wrists are raw if you have to. 

“Stop that.” 

You jump instinctively, turning towards your attention to the stairs.  
Asra. He was staring at you intently, or rather, your wrists. 

How long had he been watching you? 

“Let me go. Please.” You beg, pulling your knees up to your chest as he comes to sit in front of you. 

“I...can’t do that, I’m sorry-”

“You’re sorry? You’re _sorry_?”

“I know you’re angry, I didn’t really think this through.” He looks away from you, scratching the nape of his neck, “But I know I can’t let you go.”

“Why?” Your face is wet. Are you crying because you’re sad or because you’re angry? Everything is blurred.

You pull against the rope again, harder. You’re getting out of this whether he wants you to or not. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” He reaches out to hold your hands in place, you kick him in the face before he gets the satisfaction. 

“Don’t _fucking_ touch me.” You speak, voice laced with venom. He might as well be dead to you. 

And in some ways, he is. 

“and give you so much pleasure”

It’s been months. 

You’re still tied up. Even more so now than ever. 

You’d started a nasty biting “habit” a while ago, he put an end to that immediately. Now you were almost always gagged. After that first kicking incident, he’d tied your legs down too. 

The only time your mouth was ever free was when he forced you to eat or he wanted something else from you. You still bit then, too.

He was growing impatient with you, you could tell. Everytime you spit the food he forced in your mouth back at him his patience got a little bit thinner. A little closer to snapping on you. Who knew what would happen then? Maybe he’d kill you. No, he knows that’s what you want, he’d never. 

You do nothing but think, look out of the window (Now that your mouth is gagged he has no grievances about opening the window), and hope that the next time you go to sleep you don’t wake up. This is no life to live. 

You’re about to nod off to sleep when you hear footsteps. 

God, go away. 

“Time to eat, hmm?” He says dryly, gazing at you from across the room. The optimism had long since left his voice, at least when he was around you. 

He’s already carrying something. If you saw him make the food he brings you, maybe you’d actually eat it. 

You turn your head away from him defiantly. He sighs and approaches you, grabbing your jaw and turning your head to face him. 

He doesn’t look angry, no he’s never looked at you angrily. If anything, he always looks sad. Disappointed maybe? This wasn’t what he bargained for when he enslaved you. 

Everyday is just another one of shared animosities, unspoken words, and wishing things could go back to how they were. 

But you both knew that wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. 

This is how you’d spend the rest of your life.

“I hate you.” 

“I know you do.” 

“you won’t ever forget about me.”


End file.
